Ghost Of Love
by Marley2580
Summary: Draco has found happiness in another’s arms, will Harry succeed in winning him back or is Draco gone for good? Rated R for language
1. Default Chapter

Title: Ghost of Love Author: Marley Pairing: HP/DM Rating: R I think Feedback: Marley2580@blueyonder.co.uk Disclaimer: Characters etc. belong to JKR, certainly not me. Also the song is 'Ghost of Love' by that wonderful Scottish band The Proclaimers, alas only the story is mine. Summary: Draco has found happiness in another's arms, will Harry succeed in winning him back or is Draco gone for good? Category: angst, AU (was started before book 5)  
  
When you look in my eyes you know that I'm gonna lie, But you look in my eyes for the ghost of love that died. And when you see him, you should believe him, He won't deceive you; he's never leaving, I used to feel the ways he's feeling.  
  
Before I fell for you I thought love was just a rage, But we left the book of love signed in blood on every page They say it makes you feel so alive, But that's the biggest of all the lies. For every sting, part of you dies. So look into my eyes for the ghost of love that died.  
  
I don't believe in second chance, 'Cause that's not love that's just romance, And I know the ending well in advance. So look into my eyes for the ghost of love that died.  
  
"Are you listening to that rubbish again?" Ron's voice cut into Harry's reverie. "You know you're just torturing yourself."  
  
"I know," Harry said as Ron plonked himself down on Harry's bed. "But I really miss him, and seeing him with that slut just kills me."  
  
Ron looked at him. "Could I just remind you who dumped who here. Did you really expect him to just sit around and wait for you to change your mind?"  
  
Harry smiled sheepishly. "I did a bit." Ron just rolled his eyes. "OK, I realise that it was unlikely to happen, but I thought that he'd be just a bit more heartbroken, not that he'd hook up with the first tramp that comes along."  
  
"Have you even met Conall?" asked Ron. "'Cause I have, and I'll tell you he's actually a really nice guy. I think he's just what Draco needs after the fucked up thing you two called a relationship. Personally I think you need to find someone like that yourself, instead of moping about listening to bad music." Ron stood up. "Look, why not come down to the Common Room, Hermione's been asking after you, she hasn't seen you all day. You're really starting to worry her you know."  
  
Harry smiled. "Hermione always worries too much, you'd think she was my mum or something." He looked up at Ron's concerned face and realised that it wasn't just Hermione who was worried about him. Harry averted his eyes a little guiltily. "You're right Ron, it is about time I left this room. Only I don't think I can face the chaos of the Common Room right now, let's go out for a walk, just you, me and Hermione. It's a really nice evening, I'll meet you two outside near the broom shed, I think I'm going to sneak out and avoid everyone else." He smiled reassuringly at Ron who was frowning. "I won't be long."  
  
Ron left the dormitory to find Hermione as Harry made a half-hearted attempt to tidy himself up. He just didn't see the point in making much of an effort any more, he no longer had anyone to look good for since he and Draco had split up. 'Since you dumped him you twit' Harry reminded himself. It had seemed a good idea at the time; their relationship had been volatile to say the least. Every time they talked, one of them would end up storming off in a rage or breaking down into tears. It had got to the point where Harry was wondering why on earth they had even got together in the first place. Of course, now that they were no longer with each other Harry could think of the hundred and one reasons why it had happened - but it was too late now. At dinner that night Harry had seen the way Draco and Conall had looked at each other; as if they had intimate knowledge of one another, the way Draco and Harry had looked at one another when they had first fallen in love.  
  
Falling. That's what it had been like. Harry used to look into Draco's grey eyes and feel as if he were falling through silver clouds, he would often wonder when he would hit the ground, but he never did. 'Well you've sure hit the ground now. with a thump'. Harry sighed as he pulled on his invisibility cloak and left to meet Hermione and Ron, leaving behind him yet another sad song playing on the wizarding gramophone in the empty dormitory.  
  
The next morning at breakfast Harry tried to put on a cheery disposition to reassure his friends, but he soon stopped when he saw it was having the opposite effect. Ron and Hermione had tried really hard last night to take his mind off a certain silver haired Adonis, but it hadn't really worked. On their walk around the school grounds Harry had been constantly reminded of Draco; that was where they had fooled around under the soft blanket of night, that was where they had been standing when they saw a shooting star and made a wish, that was where. Harry hadn't realised how much he and Draco had got around before they came out to their friends and were able to be together in public.  
  
He frowned over at the Slytherin table where Conall MacDonald was making puppy eyes at Draco, no sneaking around for those two. Harry had been the one to pave the way and now Conall was treading a well-worn path, reaping the benefits with none of the effort. Harry yelped as a sharp elbow jabbed him in his side.  
  
"Stop it Harry," Hermione hissed. "You're practically growling at them. Get over it."  
  
Harry was surprised to find that a growl had actually been building up in the back of his throat; he quickly shovelled some toast into his mouth to stop the growl escaping and nearly choked himself. As he coughed and spluttered he couldn't help but look across the Great Hall to see if Draco was at all concerned, but Draco was too busy playing footsy with his golden haired boytoy to notice a minor thing like his ex lover choking to death.  
  
Harry recovered from his brush with death, only to laugh at the sudden melodramatic turn of his thoughts. Hermione was right, Harry needed to move on with his life, but how was he supposed to just forget the best thing that had ever happened to him?  
  
Harry and Draco had finally got together at the start of sixth year, but what Draco hadn't known at the time was that Harry had spent most of fifth year plotting how to get Draco Malfoy into bed with him. If the Slytherin had known what went on in the saintly Harry Potter's head he would have been shocked - some of the plans he had come up with would have made a Death Eater proud. However, he had finally settled on one plan, which had developed as a result of something he had once heard Draco say. It had been after Potions about half way through fifth year; Harry had heard Draco going on about the new, state-of-the-art broomstick that had just appeared on the market. Ron had made a throwaway comment to Harry about how Draco wouldn't always have his daddy to buy everything for him. Draco had, of course, heard him and spun around to snap, "I always get what I want Weasel, whether it's handed to me on a plate or whether I have to fight for it. I always get what I want."  
  
It had hit Harry then - the trick to getting Draco would be to make him want Harry; the blond always got what he wanted, he just didn't know yet what he wanted, and it was Harry's job to show him. Ok, so it wasn't much of a plan, but it was a start. It had sort of grown and developed from there. The plan ended up being that Harry would flirt outrageously with all of Draco's friends but not Draco. Harry had admitted to himself that it was a long shot, so he had been rather surprised when it had actually worked.  
  
The resulting relationship had been fiery but in Harry's opinion, completely wonderful. And the sex! Harry had never imagined such emotion could reside behind those steel eyes, but when Draco let himself feel and love, he showed such passion that it literally took Harry's breath away. Harry was of the serious opinion that they had had sex in every possible place in and around Hogwarts bar the Great Hall and Dumbledore's office; they had even had sex on Snape's desk in the Potion's classroom, often bringing a smile to Harry's lips when Snape picked on him in Potions. Towards the end of the relationship the passion behind the sex had not been love or even lust, but anger as their arguments had gotten more and more heated. This was why Harry had ended the relationship, Draco's very presence had become enough to annoy Harry, and he knew that the feeling had been mutual. They hadn't spoken about it then, but Harry now wondered what had caused the anger and friction between them, and if he had been too hasty to end the relationship.  
  
"I shouldn't have ended it," whispered Harry looking across to the Slytherin table where Draco and Conall were sitting. He turned to Hermione who was looking at him incredulously. "I want him back."  
  
"You can't be serious," Hermione exclaimed, pushing a lock of her flyaway hair behind her ear. "your relationship was a disaster. What makes you think he would even want you back? You dumped him, remember? And besides he's with someone else now, look - he's happy. Leave it alone Harry, he won't come back to you."  
  
"I made him want me before, and I'll do it again." Hermione looked at the determined glint in her best friend's eye and sighed. Harry was right, he probably could do it again, but she hoped for everyone's sake that he failed; he and Draco had not been good for each other. Throughout the rest of breakfast Hermione watched her friend plot a way to get Draco Malfoy come running back to him. She could almost see the cogs turning as he contemplated and discarded one idea after another. Finally, a satisfied smile spread across Harry's face and Hermione sighed, she knew he had settled on a cunning plan that would make Draco fall back into his arms.  
  
As they left for their first class of the day, Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and the two fell back slightly behind Harry, who was too absorbed in his own thoughts to even notice.  
  
"What?" asked Ron as they let Harry go on ahead.  
  
Hermione was careful to keep her voice low in case Harry heard her. "He's hatched a plan to get Draco back."  
  
There was no question as to who 'He' was as Ron followed her example and spoke quietly. "Oh no. I was afraid this would happen," he whispered conspiringly, a worried look on his face. "he's been moping about for ages listening to those depressing songs that he likes so much. I suppose it was only a matter of time before he decided he'd made a mistake. So what's his master plan? Or do I really want to know?"  
  
"He hasn't told me what it is, nor is he likely to, but I'm guessing it'll involve Harry doing his usual and tackling the problem head on, with very little subtlety. Poor Draco won't know what hit him."  
  
"Forget 'poor Draco'," hissed Ron. "What about poor Conall? I've got to know him a bit over the last year through his sister and he's a really nice guy, almost as nice as Sorcha. God alone knows what he's doing with Draco Malfoy, but I know he really cares about him. If Harry succeeds in getting Draco back, Conall is going to be heartbroken." Ron shook his head. "I think we should warn them about what Harry's planning, it's only fair."  
  
"We can't; we promised not to interfere after last time, remember?" sighed Hermione. "All we can really do is be around to pick up the pieces when it all falls apart." And with that the two friends caught up to Harry before he noticed their absence, and continued to their classroom in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.  
  
That afternoon Harry had Potions with Hermione, Ron and of course Draco. Harry was sitting beside Hermione, as Ron had gone over to sit beside his girlfriend Sorcha, and Harry had made sure that he was sitting with a good view of Draco.  
  
This was one of the few classes that both Harry and Draco were in; which, being without Conall, who was a sixth year, made it the perfect opportunity for Harry to put his cunning plan into action. He was anticipating his first move so much that he barely noticed the usual taunts and insults thrown his way by Professor Snape. Instead Harry spent the whole hour just gazing at Draco's tightly muscled back, imagining himself running his hands up that back to tangle in Draco's blond hair. Harry loved Draco's hair, he had persuaded the blond to throw out his gel, and now his hair was smooth and fine and just long enough to get a good handful to make him tilt his head back so Harry was able to get at that slender neck he so loved to kiss.  
  
By the end of the lesson Harry's inattention had cost Gryffindor 10 house points, and his fellow students were shooting annoyed glances his way. Harry never even noticed them, instead as soon as the lesson was over he got up and hurried over to Draco's desk and helped him gather his books together. Draco shot him a surprised glance but accepted Harry's help. He was not surprised when Harry whispered to him. "Can I speak to you?"  
  
Draco cocked an elegant eyebrow. "Isn't that what we're doing?"  
  
Harry smiled; it was so good to be this close to Draco after all this time. "I meant can I talk to you in private? We can meet in our classroom in say. ten minutes?" He looked up at Draco from beneath his overgrown hair in that way which had always made Draco go weak at the knees. "You do remember where our classroom is, don't you?" he said softly.  
  
Draco visibly swallowed. "I remember. Why there? Why not somewhere a bit more neutral?"  
  
Harry fought the urge to grin and plastered a serious expression on his face, before continuing in an innocent tone. "Because that way we won't be interrupted. We were never interrupted when we were there, remember? It was one of the few places we could always be sure of that." He flashed Draco a small, shy smile.  
  
Draco glanced round, slightly nervous. The classroom was now empty except for Harry and himself, and of course Ron and Hermione who were trying to look inconspicuous beside the door. "Ok Harry, ten minutes in our classroom, but I can't stay long; I'm supposed to be meeting Conall before Care of Magical Creatures."  
  
"See you in ten then." Harry smiled and left the Potions classroom drawing Ron and Hermione after him without a word, leaving Draco alone and wondering.  
  
Harry pushed open the door to the empty classroom and smiled. It was like old times again with him being ever so slightly late to ensure that Draco was waiting for him; and of course he was. Draco turned as Harry shut the door with a soft click.  
  
"Well Harry, here I am as requested," he said as he opened his arms in a graceful gesture. "what can I do for you?"  
  
Do for me, or do to me?' Harry contemplated wistfully and smiled; what he wouldn't give to be able to fall into those arms, instead he sat down on one of the dusty desks. "Actually, I was hoping you would help me with something."  
  
Draco arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow in surprise. "The great Harry Potter needs my help?" he asked in a mocking yet playful tone. "Whatever would you need my help for? You've always been pretty capable at doing things for yourself."  
  
Harry ducked his head and carefully arranged a shy smile on his face that he happened to know Draco found rather alluring. Looking up he put his plan into action. "Actually I was hoping you could find out if Blaise Zabini was at all interested in me."  
  
Harry watched the surprise streak across Draco's face before being replaced by a carefully neutral mask. 'Oh yes,' thought Harry, 'the old plans are the best'.  
  
(Chapter Break) 


	2. Chapter two

Chapter Two  
  
Draco fixed his frosty glare on Harry. "Why on earth do you want to know if Zabini is interested in you? You've never shown any interest in him."  
  
Harry smiled bashfully. "I've been thinking a lot recently, about what we had before." He glanced up from under his overgrown fringe. "Also about what you and Conall seem to have now, and I want that. I want something steady, less fraught, and more predictable than what you and I had. Something more. Safe." The word 'safe' was uttered with the pure implication of the word boring; a fact which was not lost on the Slytherin.  
  
"And you think Zabini can give you that?" asked Draco coldly.  
  
"Well Conall gave you it, and he and Blaise are friends and seem quite similar," Harry said, seemingly oblivious to the clear annoyance in Draco's grey eyes. He glanced at Draco again to judge his level of irritation. "Of course, safety isn't the only reason I'm interested in Blaise, he is rather striking, that dark skin, his brown eyes. Ok he's not my usual type, but still." Now Harry looked Draco shrewdly in the eye. "Nothing wrong with going for someone completely different is there? Conall seems to be the complete opposite of me, gold hair, blue eyes, very neat and controlled." Harry could see Draco was getting very pissed off, so he abruptly changed back to the original topic. "Besides, I was interested in Blaise before, he and I were starting to get quite close when you suddenly decided you wanted me, remember?"  
  
A pink flush crept across Draco's pale cheeks, he clearly did remember. "So let me get this straight," he snapped. "You want me to play go between for my ex lover and my boyfriend's best friend?"  
  
Harry almost smiled at the not so subtle note of anger tingeing Draco's words. Feigning surprise he said, "I'm sorry, I just thought that you would want me to find the same sort of happiness that you'd found with Conall." He put his concerned face on. "You are happy aren't you?"  
  
Draco turned away sharply. "Yes of course I'm. we're happy." He answered in a clipped tone. He turned and strode towards the door saying, "I have to go, I'm late for meeting Conall." He paused with his hand gripping the door handle. Without turning he said, "I'll have a word with Zabini for you Harry, because I do want you to have what I have." And with that he was gone, the door closed behind him.  
  
'Well well,' thought Harry, 'looks like there might be a bit of trouble in paradise. This could be easier than I thought.' He got up and dusted off his trousers. There was a good reason why Draco never sat down in this room unless Harry put a coat or blanket down first. 'Too bloody dusty,' thought Harry as he left the classroom to look for his friends.  
  
Ron and Hermione were in the library, Hermione having insisted after being dumped by Harry that they spend at least part of their free period studying. However, they weren't actually studying, but were actually discussing the reason that a flushed Draco Malfoy had just stormed into the library and thrown himself down into the chair beside a rather surprised Conall MacDonald.  
  
"Harry certainly didn't waste any time," whispered Ron looking over to where the two Slytherins sat talking in hushed voices. "Draco is not looking particularly happy."  
  
"You have always had a talent for stating the perfectly obvious Ron," replied Hermione, also looking over at the not-so-happy couple. The younger boy seemed to be unsuccessfully trying to calm his lover down. "As I predicted, Harry has been his usual unsubtle self. I wonder what his master plan is this time."  
  
"From what I can see over there, it's going to involve a lot of annoying Draco, probably accompanied by antagonising Conall, who is going to cry on his sister's shoulder, the inevitable result of which will be a lot nagging in my ear."  
  
Hermione smiled. "How are things with Sorcha anyway? I haven't seen her much the last few days."  
  
Ron groaned. "I swear she's almost as bad as you Hermione, she's been writing an essay for the last few days which isn't even due in for another week! I just don't understand; is it a girl thing or is it just that I happen to be surrounded by swots?"  
  
Hermione ignored this and asked a very important question instead. "What's the topic of her essay?"  
  
Ron just groaned and dropped his head onto the table. He was surrounded by swots. It had been almost bearable when it had been just Hermione and he had had backup from Harry. But then he went and fell for Sorcha MacDonald.  
  
Ron smiled to himself; he had been with Sorcha for over a year now and he still loved her as much as ever. She only had to look at him with her hazel eyes in that special way for him to go weak at the knees; once or twice he had even found himself kneeling at her feet after that look, which had surprised them both.  
  
Ron glanced over at Hermione who had buried her nose in a potions book; he was so lucky to have a friend like her. It had been Hermione that Ron had gone to when he realised how deeply he felt about Sorcha, and it had been she who had made him ask Sorcha out. He was still slightly surprised how easily Hermione had accepted his attraction for a Slytherin (he had been surprised at Harry's easy acceptance of it as well, but he now knew the reasons for that), once she got over the initial shock of Ron Weasley falling for someone in the same house as Draco Malfoy, the Gryffindor had actually been quite supportive. ''Of course it helped that Sorcha is a total swot as well' Ron thought wryly, all it had taken for Hermione to start singing Sorcha's praises was Ron's suggestion that the two of them pair up for their Herbology project, they had gotten the highest marks in the entire year.  
  
Ron was grateful to Sorcha for a lot of things, not least of which was an amber haired beauty such as her agreeing to go out with a tongue-tied, red faced, red haired Gryffindor, at the risk of great ridicule from all her Slytherin friends. He was also grateful to her for not letting him muck up his friendship with Harry when he and Draco had 'come out'. Sorcha had helped him get over his prejudice against Slytherins in general by agreeing to date him; and when he had sat and raged to her for almost two hours (Ron was still apologising for that) about the stupidity of Harry Potter not only wanting to shag Draco Malfoy, but actually doing it, she had calmly sat and listened to him until he ran out of steam and then told him that if he didn't get out of her room and go and make up with Harry that minute, she would break up with him and never speak to him again. Ron had, of course, made up with Harry, and he was immensely grateful to Sorcha for making him do so; he was also immensely grateful to her for listening to his regular rants about the respective stupidity of Draco and Harry and their fucked up relationship.  
  
But most of all he was grateful to Sorcha for accepting his proposal last night. Ron just couldn't keep the grin off his face when he thought about that. He had been planning it for weeks and had bought the ring and everything. Ok so it was a very small diamond, but they had agreed not to have the wedding for a few years, so he would have plenty of time to save for the wedding ring. He wasn't sure yet how he was going to tell his friends, or worse yet his family. Harry, Hermione and Ginny would of course be happy and supportive of him, as they sort of knew how serious it was, but everyone else was still under the misguided opinion that Sorcha was a fling, something he had to get out of his system before settling down with someone who was not a Slytherin and who had absolutely no links to the Dark Lord at all. Ron sighed; the only links Sorcha and Conall had with He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named was a distant cousin, once removed, who was a Death Eater, but for some reason that one black sheep in the family had dammed them all in the eyes of 'respectable folks'.  
  
"Are you okay Ron, you look a bit annoyed." Ron looked over at Hermione who was looking at him questioningly.  
  
"I'm fine, I was just thinking about my family and Sorcha." Hermione nodded sympathetically. "Do you think they'll ever accept her?"  
  
She shrugged her shoulders. "I really don't know Ron, all I can say is keep trying. You two really love each other and anyone who can't see that you two are supposed to be together is blind."  
  
Ron flashed her a warm grin. "In that case, I think there's something I should tell you about me and Sorcha."  
  
Harry finally found Ron and Hermione in the library. As he walked in, he couldn't help but notice that both Draco and Conall were also in the library, so he was careful to ensure that Draco noticed him as he walked over to where his friends were sitting. Carefully choosing the seat with the best possible view of the blond, Harry artfully draped his muscular frame over the chair. He sat like that, watching Draco converse with his boytoy, for a whole five minutes before he realised that his friends were being very quiet.  
  
Looking over at them, Harry saw that Hermione was staring, open-mouthed, at a very red faced Ron who himself had a very large grin on his face. "Ok, what's going on? What have I missed?" asked Harry, puzzled. Looking again at the massive grin, which was threatening to take over the whole of Ron's face, he asked suspiciously. "Ron, what have you done?"  
  
Ron finally seemed to notice him; he ducked his head and blushed an even deeper shade of red. "Nothing," he said, becoming even more embarrassed at the blushing that he couldn't control.  
  
"Nothing!" exclaimed Hermione, who quickly remembered where she was and dropped her voice to an indignant stage whisper. "I don't think proposing marriage to your long standing girlfriend is nothing!" She got a playful look in her eyes. "Or would you like me to tell Sorcha that her fiancé thinks that agreeing to marry him is 'nothing'?"  
  
What his friends were saying finally penetrated Harry's brain. "Wait a minute!" He turned to Ron. "You mean to say that you and Sorcha have actually decided to get married?" Ron nodded. "You mean like with the white dress and the cake and the rings and everything?" Ron nodded again, his grin becoming impossibly wide. "Ron, that's brilliant! When did you ask her? Have you told anyone else yet? When's the wedding?"  
  
Ron lifted his head and tried to bring his blushing under control. "I asked her last night and gave her the ring. We've decided not to tell too many people yet, just you two, Sorcha's friends, and of course Conall, 'cause we want to wait a bit and try and break it to people gently. And the wedding's not going to be for a couple of years yet, we're only seventeen after all!"  
  
Just then a thought came to Hermione. Jumping up she asked Ron, "Is Sorcha in the Prefect's Study just now?" Ron just nodded, confused. "I'll be back in a bit then," she said, and rushed off.  
  
Harry grinned. "I think that must be the first time I've ever seen Hermione rushing away from the library."  
  
"What is she up to though?" asked Ron.  
  
Harry put his arm around Ron's shoulders and gave him a friendly hug. "This marriage thing has addled your brain. She's obviously gone to wish Sorcha congrats, and of course to get a look at the ring."  
  
"Harry, I know you're gay and all, but could you not hug me. It's very un- British, and people might think you fancy me," Ron said, still grinning.  
  
Harry smiled and planted a big, wet kiss on Ron's cheek. "For luck," he told him, but he couldn't help but notice that Draco was looking at him with a rather puzzled expression. Harry flashed him a smile and turned back to Ron. "Come on, we have to go celebrate. I just happen to have a few bottles of Butterbeer stashed in the dorm." He grabbed Ron's hand and pulled him out the library and up to the Gryffindor Dormitories where the drinks were waiting.  
  
Harry and Ron were both rather drunk when Neville came up to the dormitory, as what Harry had called 'a few bottles of Butterbeer' turned out to be well over a dozen, and a bottle of Tequila Harry had swiped from the Dursleys during the summer holidays. As Neville walked into the room he actually tripped over Ron who was lying curled up on the floor howling with laughter - inevitably, as Neville fell flat on his face, the laughter only got louder.  
  
Picking himself up, the accident prone Gryffindor looked around for Harry. Unable to see him immediately, and realising that he was unlikely to get an ounce of sense out of Ron, Neville followed the distinct sound of Harry's laughter. Surprisingly enough Harry was also on the floor, however, unlike Ron, he was not in the middle of the floor waiting to trip up unsuspecting students, but was in fact underneath Ron's bed.  
  
Neville got down on his knees to look at the Boy Who Lived more carefully. "Harry, what exactly are you doing under Ron's bed?"  
  
Harry giggled and held a finger to his lips. "Shhhhh, I'm hiding." This brought on a fresh bout of laughter from Ron and Harry covered his own mouth as he sniggered quietly. Their laughter was infectious and Neville found himself chuckling along with them.  
  
"Ok Harry, who are you hiding from, 'cause I think Ron can see you!" remarked Neville, glancing over at where the youngest Weasley brother lay trying to control his mirth.  
  
Harry beckoned Neville to come closer, until he was almost under the bed himself, before saying in an exaggerated whisper. "I'm hiding from Voldemort!" Harry and Ron both let out huge guffaws and rolled around the ground in their hilarity.  
  
Neville decided that there was little point in trying to understand what they were laughing about and instead supplied the message he had been sent up to deliver. "Harry, Draco's at the Common Room door asking for you."  
  
Harry instantly tried to look sober, but spoiled the effect as he slurred some of his words. "Draco's looking for me? But what does he want with lil' ol' me?" He tapped his fingers against his chin in an attempt to look thoughtful. "I guess I'll go down and see then Neville, old chum. Do you think you possibly help me out?"  
  
Neville took the outstretched hand and dragged Harry out from under the bed. After a few failed attempts, Neville realised that Harry also needed help in getting into the upright position. "Perhaps I should ask him to come back later when you're feeling more yourself," he suggested hopefully, not looking forward to helping Harry down the stairs. Harry just shook his head and started to stagger towards the door. Neville caught him just as he tripped over Ron who was still lying on the floor, seemingly unable to get up. "What possessed you to get so drunk anyway? If McGonagall catches you, you'll be in a hell of a lot of trouble," muttered Neville as he helped Harry navigate the stairs.  
  
They finally reached the bottom of the stairs in one piece, thanks to the heroic efforts of the now rather flushed Mr Longbottom. Harry straightened himself up and walked unsteadily to the portrait door where Draco was waiting impatiently for him. He was concentrating so much on staying upright that he missed all the curious looks from his fellow students who were anxious to know why the boy-who-lived had felt it necessary to get totally rat-arsed. Hermione didn't miss the looks; she would have to do some reassuring before the night was out, otherwise the rumours would start that Harry knew something about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and had been driven to drink; she had seen it before. She also made a mental note to check on both Harry and Ron before she went to bed and make sure they were okay; she didn't think Sorcha would be pleased if her fiancé ended up in the hospital wing with alcohol poisoning.  
  
Harry reached the door without mishap and pushed the portrait open to step outside, however he misjudged the step, tripped, knocked over Draco and ended up sprawled on top of him. Harry looked into Draco's rather surprised face and burst out laughing. "Does this position remind you of something?" he slurred.  
  
The surprise was quickly replaced with disgust, and Draco pushed Harry off him. He sat up and looked down at the Saviour of the Wizarding World lying on the floor making no attempt to get up. "You're drunk."  
  
Harry chortled and drunkenly pointed at Draco. "Yes I am. I'm very, very, very drunk."  
  
"I suppose there's no point in talking to you now, you never remember anything that happens when you're drunk," Draco stated matter-of-factly. He stood up and dusted himself off. "I'll come back when you've sobered up a bit."  
  
"No, don't go," slurred Harry propping himself up on his elbows. "I promise I'll remember. Just tell me now. Pleeeease."  
  
Draco sighed. "Fine, just don't expect me to repeat it tomorrow when you realise you have indeed forgotten."  
  
Harry drew a cross over his heart and nearly lost his balance. "Cross my heart," he said.  
  
"I did as you asked me to. I asked Blaise Zabini if he still fancied you, and for some unknown reason he said 'yes'. So I hope that answers your question." Harry nodded solemnly and Draco turned to go.  
  
A quiet voice stopped him. "Draco?" He turned to see Harry with arms outstretched towards him. "Could you help me up?" 


	3. Chapter 3

Warm autumn sunlight filtered through the window of the seventh-year Gryffindor Boys' Dormitory. It landed on the sleeping face of one Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, who had forgotten to close the curtains around his bed.

Harry woke with a massive groan, which only served to drive home the sheer size of his hangover. Rolling over, Harry realised that Ron was still sound asleep as, despite not closing his curtains also, the sun was nowhere near his sleeping face. Harry smiled. Ron looked so peaceful until, that is, Harry reached over and poked him with his wand, out of a perverse need for someone to share his misery with.

Ron shot upright, only to collapse again as the pain in his head made itself known. "My God, Harry," Ron mumbled. "What did we do last night?"

Harry grimaced. "All that I remember is that we got very, _very_ drunk."

"I was afraid that was what we did." Ron covered his face with his hands trying to keep out all forms of light and fresh air. "Hermione and Sorcha will kill us when they find out."

"There's no reason why they should find out, and even if they do it's none of their business."

Ron looked over at Harry with bleary eyes. "Do you honestly believe that we'll be able to hide a hangover as massive as this one?" Collapsing back on the bed and reburying his head, he added, "Of course it's Sorcha's business what I do; I'm getting married to her." A look of wonder materialised on his face. "Harry, I'm getting married."

Harry grinned, despite the somersaults his stomach was turning. "I know, mate, I can't believe it either."

"Harry, will you be my best man? It'd mean a lot to me."

"Of course I will. I was sort of hoping you'd ask, but I didn't know if maybe you wanted one of your brothers to do it." Harry smiled.

"One of that lot? Why on earth… Oh Christ, Harry, what time is it?" asked Ron, looking frantically round for his watch, which seemed to have vanished overnight.

Harry peered at his own watch. "It's quarter to nine, why?"

"We're going to be late for class, that's why!"

"Bugger!" said Harry, forcing his stomach to settle as he grabbed for his clothes. "Why didn't the others wake us? It's Transfiguration too, McGonagall will kill us." Without stopping for a shower or breakfast, the two invalids pulled their robes on and ran.

Harry and Ron burst into the Transfiguration classroom at precisely 9:12 a.m.

"Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, so kind of you to grace us with your presence," said McGonagall. "Five points each from Gryffindor for being late, and detention for entering my classroom while smelling like a brewery. I suggest you take some seats near the window so as not to distract the other students." Turning from the two embarrassed young men, the professor continued with her lesson.

Harry and Ron took their seats quickly. "As I was saying," continued McGonagall, "the differences between transfiguring an animate and inanimate object are threefold…" Harry tuned the professor out as he stared out the window, relying on Hermione to take notes. He could see various students with free periods wandering about the grounds, playing various wizarding and Muggle games and studying in the warm autumn sun. Harry wished he was out there with them, napping beneath a tree, sleeping his hangover away.

Harry caught a glimpse of telltale blond locks among the students outside. He squinted to get a better look as Draco moved closer to the school. Was that Sorcha he was walking with? Harry guessed that Draco's Sixth-Year-Slut was still in class; probably Double Potions with the Gryffindors. Harry hoped that Snape was giving them a really hard time, and making Connall's life a misery. _'Probably too much to ask,'_ Harry thought bitterly, _'Snape'll be favouring the Slytherins as usual.' _

Harry wondered what Draco was talking to Sorcha about. _'Maybe he's asking about the best way to dump his slut.'_ thought Harry, who realised that he was engaging in some serious wishful thinking; after all, Sorcha was the aforementioned Slut's sister. As he watched the pair walk across the grounds, Harry had a nagging thought that there was something he should remember about Draco. He had a really bad feeling that it also involved last night; maybe Draco had spoken to him. If so Harry had forgotten it. He made a mental note to ask Draco about it after Herbology that afternoon.

Harry's thoughts drifted until the lesson was finally over. Gathering together his unused parchment and quills, Harry joined Ron and Hermione as they left for their next class. Hermione made a face and fanned the air in front of her nose, as Harry fell into step beside her. "And what exactly were you two up to last night? As if I need to ask," she said.

Harry smiled. "We were celebrating, of course. We would have asked you to join us, but it was sort of a man thing." Hermione snorted at that, but Harry ignored her; he already knew her feelings on sexism and the like, and really wasn't feeling up to an argument with her. "Ron, I have this nagging feeling that something happened with Draco last night," said Harry worriedly. "I don't suppose you would remember what it was?"

Ron looked past Hermione to Harry. "Mate, I can barely remember which class we've just come from," he said incredulously. "I'm hardly likely to remember what we did last night."

"I just thought it may have happened before you got too drunk to remember."

Ron's brow furrowed in thought. "Ok, I remember us finishing the Butterbeers and you revealing your little secret…" Hermione nearly choked at that. "A bottle of Tequila," he added hurriedly. "After that, I just have these fuzzy memories about lying on the floor giggling… In a manly way of course," he told Hermione who was looking increasingly disgusted with the pair of them. "Sorry, mate, no Draco. Are you sure you didn't imagine it?"

"Of course I'm not sure! I remember even less than you do about last night. It's just a nagging feeling." Harry shrugged. "It's probably nothing, if it was really important he wouldn't have told me when I was drunk anyway."

The trio reached the Muggle Studies classroom and said goodbye to Hermione, before Harry and Ron continued on to Divination, chatting about how Harry would meet his gruesome end this week.

The three reunited in front of Herbology Greenhouse number three, and joined the other seventh-year Gryffindors and Slytherins, the timetables having been conveniently changed at the start of sixth-year. Harry and Ron had used a free period in between classes to finally get a shower, and both smelt much better. "So how are you going to die this week Harry?" asked Hermione by way of greeting.

Harry grinned. "Apparently I'm going to catch some horrible disease which will cause my head to pound, the room to spin and my stomach to turn inside out, before being vomited up."

"I think I've already got it," groaned a rather green-looking Ron, who staggered round the side of the greenhouse to throw up.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Hermione. "He can't be that hung-over."

"We stopped by the kitchen on the way here 'cause we'd missed breakfast," explained Harry, who was starting to feel a little ill himself. "Turns out Ron's hangover has a major problem with bacon rolls."

Hermione was about to make a suitably scathing remark when Professor Sprout opened the door to the greenhouse and asked the class to come in.

Once more Harry found himself grateful for Hermione's note taking skills as Draco's blond locks, yet again, distracted him. He knew he should be paying attention. After all, The-Boy-Who-Lived should know which plants can be used in medical emergencies, but Draco was just so alluring. The sun shining through the greenhouse glass brought out the silver in Draco's blond hair and once more Harry's fingers twitched with desire. He wanted to comb his fingers through the blond locks and follow the line of his spine down to that luscious arse, where his fingers also itched to go.

Caught up in his gazing, Harry was surprised by an elbow jabbing him in the side. Glancing round he realised that the class had finished and everyone was packing their things away. Leaving Ron to put away his books for him, Harry hurried to catch Draco who was heading out the door.

"Draco, wait!"

Draco turned to look coldly at Harry. "What do you want, Potter? I've got things to do."

"Can I walk you to lunch?" asked Harry. "I want to talk to you about something."

"If this is going to be one of those heartfelt talks about your feelings and all that nonsense, then forget it." Draco turned and walked out the greenhouse. Harry caught up and fell into step beside him.

"Don't worry, it's not about my feelings, or yours for that matter. I just wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away," said Draco without breaking his stride.

"Did you come and see me last night?"

Draco let out a short bark of laughter. "I knew you wouldn't remember. You never remember anything when you've been drinking."

"You did come then?"

"You know you really shouldn't drink if you can't handle it, Potter."

Harry stopped Draco with his hand. "What did we speak about?" he asked.

Draco looked down at the shorter boy. "I told you last night that if you didn't remember, you weren't to come running to me. It's not my fault that you don't remember."

"Why are you being like this, Draco? I only want to know what we talked about. Did I do something to upset you last night?" asked Harry looking up at Draco with puppy-dog eyes.

Draco smiled coldly. "No, Harry, you did nothing to upset me last night. And stop with the puppy eyes, they don't work with me any more. Now, if you'll excuse me, my lunch is getting cold."

Harry's eyes narrowed as the Slytherin turned his back on him and walked into the school. There was no way he was going to let Draco get away with treating him like that. They both had a free period after lunch; he would get Draco then. His mind made up, Harry continued into the school.

Ron and Hermione watched as Harry strode purposefully into Hogwarts. "I wonder if Malfoy knows what's in store for him," mused Hermione.

"I doubt it," muttered Ron. "Do you think Harry'll ever let go?"

"Eventually, but I think we're going to have to lend a helping hand."

"You said yesterday that we should stay out of it!" cried Ron indignantly.

"I know, but I'm starting to change my mind. They're going to end up really hurting each other." Hermione rubbed her hands together. "Right, this calls for a plan of action. After lunch we'll draw one up." She set off towards the school.

Groaning, Ron followed her. "Hermione, is this plan going to call for the use of colour coding?"

She nodded, completely serious. "And footnotes."

Wondering what he had done to deserve this, Ron followed his friend into Hogwarts.


End file.
